Wednesday Works: The Keeper of Words

The library might as well have been her second home. As much time as she had spent there, she was surprised they even asked to see her library card anymore. She had never even had a late fee, had never forgotten a good book. She had practically spent her whole life reading.

Ever since she could remember, her mother had brought her along into the library and it had become her refuge. Through anything and everything. Through school, and long long after.

She had made her way through several sections already, too many novels to count, and topics ranging from animal husbandry to x ray technology and far beyond. Her new obsession over the last few weeks were the stars, the origins of their names and their meaning.

She was nearly through an encyclopedia of the constellations when she began to smell smoke. At first, she thought nothing of it, the heater was old and had always been old, made the whole library smell like burnt ash for the first few weeks it was on and even through the winter months a whiff here or there would linger.

The year had just rolled over into the cold months, so it was no surprise, but somehow it was different. This smoke smelled different, felt different, much warmer than simply the heater. When it began to become difficult to read, she knew something was wrong.

She remembered what she had read about fire safety years ago and ducked low crawling toward the exit, but it was getting harder and harder to see the further she went. She couldn’t be sure if she was in the non fiction or the fiction section or the R’s or the C’s. It was all way too confusing in the dark smoke. She looked up to try and find where she was and where the nearest exit was, but the smoke was too thick, too black. But then, it began to change before her eyes.

She stared at bit too long and rubbed her eyes. Were those words?

THIS WAY —->

It had to be too much smoke inhalation. Buildings couldn’t talk, couldn’t direct people out when they were in a panic. She had to be hallucinating. But she didn’t have any other options. She went the way the words requested.

<——THIS WAY

Through several twists and turns, and directions within the smoke, she found her way out in the nick of time. As she burst through the double doors to safety. As she took her first clear deep breath in a while, she was sure she saw words in the last burst of smoke.

TELL OTHERS OF OUR STORIES, KEEPER OF WORDS.

Wednesday Works: Up In Smoke

When they were younger and the relationship was new, fun and exciting, they had started making origami stars, writing dreams of the future inside them.

“When we’re married, we’ll open one a month and do whatever’s on it.”

It had seemed like a great idea at the time. A way to keep the magic of their relationship alive forever. A way to keep the love between them exciting, even though at barely seventeen and a month into dating, they still hadn’t said those words yet.

For three and a half years, they created the origami stars with wishes and dreams written inside. Through high school drama, senioritis, college admissions and refusals, community college, they created stars.

A month before his twenty-first birthday, he died. A fluke accident. Something had gone wrong with the brakes and it had been raining. He couldn’t stop and drove straight into a billboard on the freeway on the way to see her.

For weeks, it felt like they had died with him too. All the light had left them and they rarely smiled.

His birthday was a somber occasion. They spent it alone in the dark of their bedroom, having gathered all the origami stars they had made. The dreams that could never be.

A single candle burned.

One by one, they began to open them.

One by one, they began to burn them.

One by one, they went up in a puff of smoke.

All the dreams they’d held so close, went up in smoke so easily.